


Domesticity

by atari_writes



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Metal Arm Kink, Smut, domestic bucky, fingering with said metal arm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-06
Updated: 2017-07-06
Packaged: 2018-11-28 09:02:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11414619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/atari_writes/pseuds/atari_writes
Summary: Bucky being domestic is a bit of a turn on for his girlfriend





	Domesticity

You sip your coffee and shift on the stool underneath you. The smell of cooking bacon and fresh brewed coffee is heavy on the air, and draws your eyes back to your boyfriend’s back in the kitchen in front of you. You lean your elbows on the counter and study him, still not quite believing what you’re seeing. He’s making breakfast. Bucky Barnes is making you breakfast. It’s so domestic, so unlike him, so goddamn attractive. You can’t help but stare. At the way he looks in just a pair of tight boxers, his back bare. At the way his metal arm catches the early morning light through the window over the sink. 

You shift on your stool again, trying to ignore the way your gaze kept returning to his arm. The plates were whirring and shifting with every movement, almost deafening next to the sound of sizzling bacon. He reaches over to grab a couple of eggs, his metal fingers so delicate and gentle, and you hear a groan slip out of your mouth before you can stop it. You wince and stiffen, but he just smirks, and cracks the eggs into an already sizzling pan. 

You glare at the back of his neck. Fucker knew what he was doing. He knew what his metal arm did to you. He knew you loved when he used it. You slip off the stool and come up behind him, wrapping your arms around his bare stomach. Your forehead falls onto his back and you groan. “You need to stop or I’m gonna jump you right here.”

He laughs and you feel the coolness of his metal fingers over your clasped hands on his stomach. “Stop what, doll? I’m makin’ ya breakfast.”

You groan at the feeling of his cold thumb on the inside of your wrist. “It’s hot,” you mutter.

The stove shuts off and Bucky’s hand leaves yours to take the food off the heat. He turns in your arms and leans against the counter behind him, letting his hands rest around your waist, and you slip yours up to his bare chest. His blue eyes are bright and there’s a mischievous glint in them that makes you bite your lip. “Makin’ breakfast is hot, doll?” A few strands of his hair have slipped from the messy bun at the back of his head, and you’re finding it hard to concentrate on words and breakfast with Bucky’s inches from your face, his dog tags resting against his bare chest, catching the light with every small movement.

You give him a small smirk and let your fingers moves up to his shoulders. You rub a few circles into his tense muscles with your thumbs, then move over to his biceps. Your eyes follow the fingers of your right hand on the metal of his arm, and you feel him tense underneath you. “Doll—“

You drop your hand his, twining your fingers with his metal ones and bringing both up to your mouth. You watch his eyes over your joined hands as you press a gentle kiss to the cool metal of his hand. “Love this,” you murmur. “You know I do.”

His other hand, still on your waist, tightens its grip on you. His mouth is open slightly, and his breathing is getting shallower. You turn your mouth slightly and let your lips fall open to catch the edge of one of his metal fingers. You slowly suck it into your mouth, your eyes on his the whole time. “Shit, doll—“ he gasps, then he’s leaning over, metal fingers slipping out of your hand to tangle in your hair, pulling your face to his.

You squeak out a noise of surprise against his lips before your hands are on the back of his neck, pulling him closer, your lips opening to force his lips closer to yours. Suddenly both his hands are around your waist and you’re being lifted off the ground. You automatically go to wrap your bare legs around him, but he turns and deposits you on the counter behind him. You let your legs fall open and bring his body forward into the space between them with nails in his back, and Bucky groans into your mouth. “Oh, fuck doll.” He stutters out. Th—the food’s gonna get cold.”

You suck his bottom lip into your mouth, releasing it slowly, drawing a soft moan from him. “Don’t care,” you mutter.

He rests his forehead against yours for a second, mutters “Fuck,” then grabs handfuls of your hips to drag you to the edge of the counter so that half your ass was hanging off, Bucky’s body between your legs the only thing keeping you from falling off.

Your hands move up into his hair, pulling it out of the bun to tangle your fingers in the soft strands. You try to pull his body closer, but he smirks and uses his flesh hand to get a good grip on the inside of your thigh. He shoves his metal fingers up towards your mouth. “Suck. Get ‘em nice and wet for me, doll.”

You moan at his firm tone and grab his metal wrist with your right hand, your left still buried in his long hair. You look up to find his blue eyes already on your mouth. His mouth is slightly open, his tongue resting on his bottom lip. Your tongue darts out to lick the tip of his fingers, and he takes a sharp inhale. You smirk at the noise, then suck his first two fingers all the way into your mouth, down to his knuckle. You stare at his barely composed face, slowly pulling off and sucking his fingers back down in a slow, deep rhythm.

After a minute of watching you suck on his fingers like you would his cock, he mutters “Fucking shit,” and pulls his fingers out of your mouth, replacing them with his lips and tongue. His now wet metal fingers skip over your body and squeeze your thigh before his metal thumb hooks in the side of your underwear and yanks it to the side. You moan into his mouth at the harsh movement, then gasp when the still cold metal is on your clit, rubbing a few circles before they move down to your opening, teasing.

“Mmm, fuck Bucky. Please.” Your voice is barely audible against his lips, but he smirks and lets the tip of one of his fingers dip inside you. You take a sharp breath and dig your nails into the skin of his back. 

“This what you wanted, doll?” He slowly moves the tip of his finger in and out of you, but you can barely feel cold bite of his finger through how wet you are. He moves his face down to rest in the crook of your neck. “C’mon, baby. Talk to me.” He sucks a kiss into the side of your neck and smirks at the desperate sound you make.

Your hand tries to find purchase on the smooth surface of his metal arm, trying to pull him closer, but the metal plates don’t offer much in terms of a finger hold, and you groan in frustration. “Bucky, please. More.”

“’s all you had to say, doll,” he murmurs against your neck, smirking. You feel the pressure of two more fingers at your entrance, and barely have the time to take a breath before he’s shoved all three metal fingers knuckle deep inside of you.

Your nails gauge deep in the muscles of his back, and you stifle a scream in the bend of his neck. He starts a vicious pace, his flesh hand still digging into your thigh, still forcing you wide for him. You wrap your arms around his shoulders and pull him flush against you, trying desperately to avoid screaming at the feeling of the cold deep inside of you, the metal so unlike the soft flesh of his fingers, firm and unyielding. You sigh out a curse.

“Fuck, doll. So tight for me,” he says low into your neck. “Feel so fucking good.”

Each movement of his fingers inside of you draws a small sound from you, and that only seems to encourage him. His thumb slips from holding your underwear and moves to your clit, rubbing hard, insistent circles while maintaining his harsh pace.

You involuntarily clench around his fingers at the new sensations, moans and gasps falling freely from your lips, hot on his neck. You can feel his cock hardening against your thigh, and you squirm and slip your right hand between your bodies to cup his hardening cock over his boxers. His fingers jerk and shove further inside you, and he bites at your neck. “Fuck—warn a guy,” he says breathlessly.

You gasp a laugh and pull at the soft material until you can get your hand around his cock and pull it out. You start to stroke him, running your thumb through the precum beaded at the tip to smear it across his shaft, easing the path of your fingers.

The pace of his fingers inside of you starts to falter, and he starts to freely moan into your neck. His thumb falls out of the smooth circular rhythm, and his movements start to become jerky, desperate to get you off before he comes all over you. “Fuck, doll. Come on sweet girl, come for me. Come all over these cold metal fingers, babygirl.” His voice is deep, rough and cuts right through you. 

“Oh, god, Bucky. Please. Please, just a little faster.” You tighten your arm around his back and squeeze his cock. “Please—“ you whine into his neck.

“Fuck, baby you’re so fuckin’ tight, so hot. Come on, pretty girl, come for me.”

One more thrust of his fingers and a sharp jerk over your clit has you gasping, squeezing, coming hard around his metal fingers. You stifle your scream in his neck and dig your nails into his back, trying to ground yourself. “Oh, fuck Bucky—fuck.”

He groans, and slips his metal fingers out. You gasp at the sensation and reflexively squeeze around his cock. He gasps and pushes his forehead into your shoulder. “Come on, doll.”

You wince and give him a small smile. “Sorry.”

He takes a deep breath and groans when you slowly drag your fingers up his cock to brush your thumb over his tip. You give him a small smirk and slip off the counter right to your knees, making him groan and grip the edge of the counter behind you. “Oh my god—“

You cut him off by sucking his cock into your mouth, then give the base of his cock a few strokes and squeezes. He grunts and sweeps your hair into a ponytail, giving the back of your head a little push forward. You run your tongue over his tip, look up at him from under your lashes, then give him a hard suck. He squeezes your hair, thrusts into you, then comes in your mouth with a stutter of his hips and a loud shout of your name.

You give him a few more sucks, swallow his cum, then smile up at his heaving chest. “Fuck baby girl.” He runs his metal thumb over your cheek and smirks. “Domesticity, huh?”


End file.
